


Written On My Skin

by Bam4Me



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: AU Werewolves are known, AU police are held accountable for their actions, Alive Claudia, Alive Hale pack, M/M, Mates, Soulmates AU, Soulmates names are written on arms, childrens book writer!peter, i wish, teacher!Derek, yeah right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 16:57:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2515013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bam4Me/pseuds/Bam4Me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, everyone is born with their mates name on their skin. That's all there is to it. Stiles has been tracing the letters on his wrist since he could lift his little fingers. Peter has been doing the same, but for so much longer.</p><p>Is it possible to miss someone you've never met?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Written On My Skin

When Stiles was finally old enough to realize that the name written on his wrist, that name he stared at so much in his life already, was his soulmate, he was actually a little excited. He was old enough to read now and he'd been tracing the letters since he was two. He knew who he was going to spend the rest of his life with.

Peter Hale

It was written so neatly, so elegantly. It was a nice name. One that he said all the time just to prove that he could. Not only that, but it was written in Peter's own handwriting. That was the way these things worked.

Some people had computer letters on their arms. Some people had sign language pictographs. Some people had sound bytes (those people usually didn't have any other ways of communicating than speech) and some people had characters, completely different than their own language. Some people had a harder time than other reading the names on their arms.

Some people were born without a name or their arm. Just a thick white bar of skin.

Their mate was dead before the birth, never having had a way to say or write their own name.

Some people had yellowish gold. Their mate was either comatose or terminally ill.

The only way to figure it out was a special x-ray, one that combined uv lights, looking for the imprint on the internal muscles inside the arm.

Some people live and die without ever knowing the name.

Stiles had no such specialties. It was neat, cursive handwriting. Left handed by the slant of the letters, and tall sloping loops. His mate had very nice handwriting. Stiles traced it every night before going to bed.

The Hales were a family in Beacon Hills, the town that Stiles lived in. So realizing that his father knew who Peter Hale was right away.

Peter himself was only eighteen years old when Stiles was six, so a twelve year difference.

In a world where the universe chooses your soulmate for you, age differences don't really matter though.

The idea of hurting your soulmate in any way, shape or form is unthinkable. Touching them before they're ready for you to, just as bad.

So honestly, Sheriff Stilinski didn't feel so bad about letting them interact.

Peter was a little surprised that Stiles didn't like being called his birth name, but then again, the only reason he himself could pronounce it was because of years of practice. The rest of his family weren't so great at it (except for that one aunt that has been studying language for half her life) so they had always just called him Genim, the second name printed on Peter's wrist when referring to him.

Actually meeting the little boy that they had been talking about for all of Peter's life before then, was surprising too.

Stiles was rambunctious. Nothing like the elegant name printed on Peter's arm suggested. He rambled constantly. He stuck to Talia's side like glue whenever she was anywhere near the kitchen, always worming some sort of treat out of his alpha just because he asked her with that cute face of his. Peter would happily spend all full moon with him, fully transformed into that large wolf form of his, patiently playing with his little pup, happily letting the boy fall asleep on him when it got too late for him to handle.

His pup was the best of all pups too. Stiles would quietly sit next to Derek while he did homework and still his babbling when Peter needed the teen to watch him for a moment. Sometimes he work his way into Derek's lap while he did it, but Derek never seemed to mind, Stiles had been pack from the first time Peter had learned to say Stiles' name at two years old.

Stiles probably slept in Peter's room more often than he slept in his own at home, so the boy tended to be drowned in Peter's scent (Stiles would rub off more scent on Peter when he finally hit puberty as tended to happen) and the werewolves at school knew fully well he was part of the Hale Pack and not to be touched.

Cept for Scott, cause he was Stiles best friend (but it also didn't matter, because he would be part of the Hale pack soon too, he had Derek's name on his wrist. But they'd only just met recently so he wasn't scented enough to be pack yet) and Scott gave some of the best cuddles ever right under Peter and his mommy and daddy.

So sometimes he smelled like Scott (who didn't have much more of a smell than Stiles did to be honest) and sometimes he smelled like his parents. Peter really couldn't complain with the way his own scent drowned out all the others.

Actually, he could barely remember the smell of the little boy when he'd first met him, smelling so much like his mama and papa that he'd actually been surprised. He wasn't often around people he considered pack but smell so much not like it.

He made up for it very quickly actually.

***

Peter was surprised when his sister had come to him while he was watching the little ones one day, telling him that a man by the name of Stilinski was about to be named sheriff. He'd asked her what his first name was of course.

"John. But, he has a son. Barely six years old now. Peter, that's exactly as long as your mate's name has been fully black on your arm."

A name on the arm being fully black meant that their mate was alive. Grey meant they weren't born yet. White means they've passed.

For the first twelve years of his life, his mate's name was grey.

Sometimes though, you'd meet a person who's mates name had been white since the day they were born.

Those people surprised Peter. The idea that you'll never meet your soulmate in this life. That they'll always be gone from you. It'd drive Peter crazy.

Some people wake up every day and the first thing they do is look at their arm to make sure it wasn't white.

Peter just hoped his stayed black until the day he died.

So it was less than a month later when he went into the sheriff station, three weeks after Sheriff Stilinski came into his position.

"Hi, I'd like to speak with the sheriff if that is at all possible."

The deputy manning the front desk looked up at the wolf and raised an eyebrow, "Appointment?"

Peter shook his head, "Sorry, no appointment. Bit spur of the moment."

She gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry, can't let you without an appointment."

Peter sighed, "Could you at least ask him if I could speak with him sometimes soon?"

She looked up and nodded a little, "You're going to have to tell me what it's about though."

Peter met her gaze for a few more seconds than he would have any other time before lifting his right arm and rolling up the sleeve.

He pointed to the bright black letters, elegantly scrawling out the almost unpronounceable name on his arm. They were thick letters, bubbly and kind of cute. They stood stark against the pale skin. She stood up, looking at his arm for a moment before looking to the back of the department itself. "Stay here."

When she came back out she had the sheriff with her, young and blonde, tall and muscled. Slightly imposing, and slightly worried.

"Show me."

Peter held up his arm again and watched the sheriff get closer, not touching the skin once though holding his hand out as if he wanted to. He studyied the marking for a minute before finally looking back to Peter's face. "Stiles!"

Peter looked a little surprised at the reaction before his words were taken from his mouth. A tiny grey blur came rushing out of the bullpen, straight into John's legs, looking up at his daddy with a smile. He was wearing a fox shaped hoodie with a big fluffy red tail coming out of the back. He was seriously freaking adorable.

The sheriff smiled a little sadly and reached down, sliding one hand under each arm before lifting the little boy up, letting him latch onto his waist with little legs. "Stiles, I think you should meet someone. I think you two might get along very well."

Stiles looked around a moment before his eyes landed on Peter, "Is it him Daddy? Is he the person?"

John nodded and walked the few short feet to the front desk again, detaching Stiles enough that he could turn the little boy around, setting him on the desk to face Peter.

Peter looked between the two of them for a moment, kind of lost before John sighed, "Go on, show him."

Stiles looked at his dad, confused before looking back to Peter, "Yeah. Show me."

Peter took a deep breath, taking in the soft, clean baby smell coming from the child and rolled up his right sleeve again, wondering why he'd even put it back down in the first place.

He turned a little so the child didn't have to crane his neck to read it and showed him.

It took a minute, with the little boy slowly sounding out the letters until his face lit up, equal parts surprise and excitement. "That's me! That's my name!"

He stood up on the desk so he was face level with Peter now, thrusting his right wrist at him, "Are you him? Are you Peter?"

Peter smiled at the little boy and gently caught the hand in both of his own, tracing over the name printed in his arm with a slight smile before nodding, "Yeah. That's me. That's my name." His voice sounded slightly cracked, imitating Stiles' previous words with a happy look.

Stiles looked back at his dad and then back to Peter, not knowing what he was supposed to be doing right now, but really excited to do it.

John smiled and took pity on the two of them, "C'mon then. Maybe you two can keep each other occupied while I finish my paperwork. That is if you don't have anything else you need to be doing?"

Peter's gaze never left the excited boy who's arm he still held in both hands. "No. I have nowhere else in the world I need to be more than here."

"Good."

***

Stiles and Peter took to each other like fish to water. Stiles was happier than ever, talking to all of his little classmates about how he'd found his soulmate already and he was very pretty and he was big and snuggly and had perfect eyes.

The other students were halfway between awe and disgust.

It just made Stiles happier.

Peter on the other hand was currently being used by both the pack and Stiles' father as an all experiences paid babysitter for Stiles and the little ones.

He should probably be more unhappy at that, but if it meant he had more time to be with Stiles, sure, why not.

"C'mon cub. Please put your jacket on for me?"

Stiles looked up at Peter kneeling next to him, ready to swaddle him up in the jacket with or without his consent and pouted, "The others don't have to wear the jackets."

Peter deflated and gave a slight nod, "You're right cub, they don't. Except for Avery and Miessa. They do."

Stiles looked over at the human pack members and frowned, "Why do they?"

"Because they're human. Humans get cold easy and their mommies and daddies don't want them to get sick."

Stiles frowned, "Will I get sick if I don't."

"You might. And that means no school, no play time. Maybe even no Peter if your mommy and daddy don't want me coming by."

Stiles looked affronted and demandingly turned around, sticking his arms out for Peter to put the coat on him.

"Thank you, cub. I know you don't like the jacket."

Stiles shrugged a little, "It's not too bad. Means I get to be with you longer."

Peter leaned in and gave the preening boy a tiny kiss on the mouth, smiling when the little boy returned it tenfold, peppering tiny kisses all over his face happily.

Okay, even Peter sometimes got disgusted by their cuteness.

He stood up and reached out one hand for Stiles to slip his own into before Stiles made a noise.

"Wait, you has to meet Scotty!"

Peter looked where Stiles was pointing to see a tiny little werewolf with his mother, meticulously tying his shoes one foot at a time. Peter was a little impressed. Stiles still demanded Peter do it for him.

He let the little boy drag him over and crouched next to the suddenly chatting little boys.

"...and this is Peter. He's very pretty and he's all mine."

Scott looked up at Peter and gave a shy smile, cautiously holding his hand out to shake.

He must have been raise by humans then... Peter took the tiny hand anyway, giving it a hearty shake that made the boy giggle before something caught his eye.

He gently turned the tiny hand in his own and raised his sleeve a little.

Derek Hale

He let go of the confused boy's little hand and smiled. "That's a very familiar name."

Scott perked up a little, "You know Derek?"

Peter nodded, "Yeah. He's my nephew."

Scott stood up, frantically tugging on his moms scrubs pants as if she hadn't heard exactly what they had been saying. "Mommy, Peter says he knows Derek. Peter knows my mate!"

She grinned and crouched down next to the little boy. "He does? Maybe you should spend some times with Peter and Stiles today."

She looked up, waiting for his nod which he eagerly gave.

Honestly, he couldn't wait to see the look on the kids face when he saw the little boy.

Peter stood up and she followed him, "You have to get to a shift at the hospital right? Well just call whoever was watching him and tell them he isn't gonna show. I can take him home after your shift."

She looked down at Scott and Peter's eyes followed her eyes and stopped at her own wrist. The letters on her arm were bright white and for a moment he wondered if her mate was Scott's father or if her mate had been dead long before that.

"Okay. I'll tell his daddy not to expect him home till later. I know where the Hale house is, I'll pick him up after my shift."

Peter looked at the excited boys on the floor still, trying to tie Scott's shoes for him (and doing a very bad job to be honest) and grinned brightly.

This was going to be fun.

He looked up at the other side of the room to find the other children quietly egging Cora on into eating a bottle of glitter glue and sighed.

This job sucks.

***

Honestly, it would have been more fun if Talia hadn't booted Peter and Stiles to the kitchen.

Stiles was fine, happily weaseling into Talia's arms so he could get her to feed him sweets while she read over files another Alpha had sent her for review.

"Stiles! Stiles!"

Scott came skidding into the room, looking excited and a little wild, "Stiles! Derek said you and me can go play on the trampoline!"

Stiles looked down at him and started wriggling in Talia's arms, making her sigh, kiss him on the forehead and let him go. Stiles landed on the floor with a thump and cheered, going to Peter's side and grabbing onto his hand, "Are you gonna watch us play, Peter?"

Peter smiled down at him and nodded, watching Derek walk into the room, dazed and a little dopey eyed. Peter smirked at him and pointedly didn't think about what it was like to meet Stiles for the first time.

He might have been a little dopey too.

He reached down and pulled the little child into his arms, smiling at the feeling of his warm little body all wrapped up in his, "Lets go get your coat, huh?"

Stiles nodded and let himself be toted out of the room, Derek and Scott following behind.

Peter had to lift the little boy again when they got into the back yard, pulling the net on the trampoline back for him to scramble into the bouncy room, calling out for Scott to hurry up and come play with him.

When they were both in and playing Derek stepped up next to Peter and sighed, "So... am I supposed to feel like a pedophile?"

Peter gave him an odd look, "If you feel like a pedophile you need to rethink some things, Derek."

Derek shook his head, "No, I'm just wondering if I should."

Peter snorted, "That's an awful stereotype that douche bag humans created."

He heard a yelp and they both looked up to see Scott hanging onto the netting and giving them an odd look, "Mommy says those are bad words!"

Peter blanched and gave the boy a smile, "Sorry, Scott. I'll not say those words any more."

Derek snickered next to him, watching the boys go back to playing.

***

Growing up with mates 10+ years your junior was kind of odd. Derek and Peter found themselves going to the park more than anyone else their age without kid did, in place of parties with other people their own age.

Shit, Peter was finding himself becoming friends with mothers and going through the sheriff and his wife to set up play dates for all of them. He was becoming domestic.

In a very odd way too.

But the years went by, and Stiles and Scott got too old for their mates to make playdates for.

"So..."

Derek looked up from his computer and raised an eyebrow, "Yes?"

Peter sat next to him on the couch, "You graduate this year. What are you doing next year?"

Derek closed his laptop and sighed, "Maybe I'll stay at home and be lazy like you?"

Peter shook his head and shoved his leg into Derek's, making him grunt and push his uncle away, "I do have a job you know. It's just not as time consuming as most."

"Yeah, childrens books. Kind of weird..."

Peter shrugged, "When Stiles was younger he loved them. Probably will again one day, once he realizes you're never too old to enjoy a good book."

Derek smiled and shook his head in amusement, "Okay fine, you have a nice job, at the very least the rest of the kids in the pack like them... I don't know. I want to get a good education, but... I just can't stand the thought of leaving him, you know?"

Peter nodded, "Yeah, I do. Even one year away from my boy would be too many. On the flipside though, it isn't very far to the community college. I know it's not the best education a person could ask for, but it's in town, and you could spend a year or two there before making any solid decisions."

Derek sniffed a little and nodded, "Okay. That works well enough then. If I have to go there I will. I think I want to get some degree in teaching though."

"Why?"

Derek smiled, "Well, I figured, if I do it quick enough, I could probably get a job at the high school by the time that Scott, Stiles and the rest of the kids are heading into high school. Could be with them for longer. Besides, I was always good with tutoring."

Peter nodded and stood up, "I'm headed off to bed. Stiles should be out of the shower by now. You should call Scott before it gets too late, tell him goodnight."

Derek nodded and pulled out his phone.

***

Stiles was ten when it happened though. He was playing on the playground with Cora, Derek's little sister, Malia, Derek's cousin from his oldest uncle, and Scott.

It had seemed like such a nice day too.

Stiles paused when he caught the ball Malia had thrown his way and stood, frozen.

"Stiles, throw it back!"

Stiles didn't hear her though. It was like he couldn't hear anything.

"Crap, he's having an panic attack!"

Scott was at his side before Stiles even knew what was going on, talking him through breathing, helping him while the girls ran to get a teacher.

It still didn't stop him from being a sobbing wreck by the time the teacher got to them. She was on her knees in front of Stiles, trying to get him to look at her. Stiles' head was spinning and he couldn't even control himself.

"Stiles, what happened?" The words were firm and slightly demanding. It was just the push he needed actually.

A few tears skidded down his chin while he shakily held up his right hand, showing her the name on his wrist.

They were golden yellow.

Sickly and gross on his skin even.

Something was wrong.

***

The hospital room was quiet, beeping to show that Peter's heart was still beating. Slowly, but still beating.

"What happened?"

Talia frowned at the doorway where Stiles stood and bit her lip, holding her hand that wasn't holding Peter's out for the kid, holding him close when he sought her comfort. Stiles reached out and slid his hand into Peter's, letting Talia hold them both close.

"Kate Argent."

"Allison's aunt? What did she do?" Hunters weren't very out of place in today's society, they were all over, but they weren't legally allowed to do anything until something happened.

Like police kind of, so they can't hurt weres either, they're just the extra force used for containing them.

Kate Argent has had a history of were brutality. Stiles' parents hated her, she once arrested a fifteen year old human in the Bryant pack the next town over and held him overnight on charges of supposed breaking and entering.

When he was finally released they said it was like he'd been brainwashed and refused to say what had happened.

Stiles really hate her.

"Don't worry, Stiles. She isn't getting away with this one."

Stiles snorted, "How do you know?"

She shook her head, "What sane person do you know that would set a person's house on fire just because she could and get away with it?"

Stiles turned his face into her shoulder, letting his alpha calm him down. If she wasn't here he'd probably be a wreck on the floor. Peter was burnt. Badly.

"Will he ever wake up?"

Talia hummed into his neck and nodded, "Yeah. It might take a while, but he's not beyond reach. The pack in taking him home as soon as he's well enough that the scaring won't hurt to be touched."

Stiles pulled back, "What house?"

"What do you mean, Stiles?"

"What house burnt down?"

"It was a further off one, on the edge of the property, a nice little thing, nowhere near as big as the main house."

Stiles furrowed his brow, "Why was he there?"

She paused, "He was thinking he could start getting it fixed up, and maybe by the time you were ready to move out, he'd have it ready."

Stiles' breath hitched a little and didn't even realize he was crying until he felt Talia wrap him up in her arms, holding him close and shushing him gently.

He wasn't sure he'd make it till Peter woke up, but he'd try his hardest.

It couldn't last forever.

Right?

***

It didn't take long before Peter was moved to the Hale house, and even less long to convince his parents that he needed to be with him. That werewolves need their pack to help heal, and if he couldn't do that he had no right to call himself Peter's mate.

Hearing their little boy talk like that was scarier than Claudia and John had ever thought. They couldn't say no though. They'd seen what the death or loss of a soulmate could do to a person.

Stiles was only ten, he didn't deserve that.

***

At first it was kind of hard. Stiles got quiet. He chose to stay in Peter's room at night and most days over playing with anyone. Sometimes he'd choose to play with Scott if they could just quietly stay in the room and play cards, or board games.

He was still just so quiet though.

The first year was the hardest.

Sometimes, he'd just burst into a fit in school or at home. At school they had a grief counselor ready for him the whole way, helping him to calm down.

But them, fits turned into panic attacks.

And with panic attacks came the dreading fears that Stiles was trying to avoid.

What if he never woke up.

What if he did and was a completely different person.

He's still his soulmate and always would be, but Stiles wasn't sure if he could handle this. Waking up to knowing he was going to spend the rest of his life with a man that might not even like him any more.

The first year was the hardest.

***

The second year with the numbest.

He had a prescription for medication to stave off the panic attacks before they happened if other methods of calming down failed. So when he wasn't feeling drugged and sluggish, needing help with his school work because the pills made his brain fuzzy and sometimes it became hard to understand, he felt anxious and tired, sleep deprived and slightly sick because of irregular dosages.

But mostly, he felt numb. He tried to block everything that had happened. He pretended that one day Peter would wake up, the same person as usual, and wrap Stiles up in his arms, making the muddled thoughts in his mind fall away so everything would just be quiet for once.

At least he didn't have to worry about his ADHD right now, he was too tired to be hyper, and too fuzzy to think on anything hard enough for it to lead him on a bunny trail to something else.

He mostly just curled up in Peter's bed with him when his parents weren't helping him with homework and playing the few games he still liked left with him, and slept as best as he could.

Unfortunately he still had insomnia though.

***

The third year things got better. 

The doctors had messed with his dosages a little, so it was easier to sleep and easier to do his work. With more regular sleeping he was even becoming more active again. He was still quiet, choosing to save his words for when he was back in Peter's room at night, blathering away about all he had done and how much he missed him.

Peter's room was not sound proof. It was heartbreaking.

That year Derek was starting as a student teacher up at the high school where Scott and Stiles would be the next year, shadowing for the year and possibly the next before getting his own class. At least that was going well.

They had healers in to work with Peter at least once a week. They said he was improving very well and it wouldn't be long.

Stiles still couldn't bring himself to leave his side.

***

The fourth year was the closest to normal that they had had in a while. Stiles was starting to talk to other students again, and even playing video games with the others and watching tv with the rest of the pack.

But sometimes, like before, he'd just hole himself up in Peter's room with him, curled up on the bed with his head on Peter's chest, listening to his heartbeat. It was calming and helped him sleep at night.

So Stiles and Scott were in high school. Scott spent most of his days eating in Derek's room with him. Stiles joined them most days, ignoring them as they made kissy faces and cuddled each other, mostly just laying back in one of the desks and dozing until the bell rang for next period.

Stiles was getting restless too, sometimes he didn't even sleep at night, simply laying over Peter's chest, watching those thick scars slowly disappear back into his skin.

The day would come when Peter's body would be fully healed, Stiles knew this, but he still wondered if he would wake up at all even so.

It wasn't unheard of, a patient being fully functioning but refusing to wake up until their mind allowed them to.

Stiles just hoped he was reason enough for Peter's mind to wake itself up.

***

It was.

***

"Stiles?"

Stiles didn't look up from where he was staring at his wrist, his books and supplies scattered all around him. He blinked, wondering if he was imagining it.

Peter's name was black.

Solidly black.

His mouth dropped open and he took in a shaky breath of air, looking shocked.

"Scott?"

Scott came over, looking concerned for Stiles, "What's wrong?"

Stiles shakily lifted his wrist for Scott to see, "Does that look black to you?"

Scott made a noise, dropping his own backpack to the ground, "I need to go get Derek. He's going to want to get you home right away."

Stiles nodded, still standing in a pile of his own school supplies and blinking.

Stiles still doesn't remember how he got home that day.

***

Stiles stood in the doorway to Peter's room, mouth slowly dropping as he realized this really wasn't a dream. Peter was sitting up, looking tired, listening to the healers.

"...Peter..." Stiles' voice was quiet, but Peter didn't miss it one bit.

He turned his head to the doorway, looking excited despite his tired he was and held his arms open, "Stiles, come here please?"

Stiles didn't have to be told twice. When Peter pulled him into his arms on the bed, Stiles felt like for the first time in four years, he could actually breath.

And he could.

***

"Why are you smelling me so much?" Peter pulled back from Stiles' neck and smiled, tracing the side of Stiles face, where he was starting to lose baby fat.

"I'm just surprised."

Stiles hummed and traced Peter's face back, "Why?"

Peter leaned in and pressed a kiss to Stiles' forehead, "You still smell just so much like me."

Stiles snorted, "I better. I've hardly left your side for four years."

Peter sighed and kissed Stiles' fingers, "That's not healthy. But I'm way too possessive to argue about it."

Stiles didn't sleep that night much either, staying awake with Peter for as long as the recovering wolf could, telling him all the things that had happened while Peter was comatose. Peter let him, thankful to finally hear his mates voice uncovered by a fog of sleep after so long.

Stiles could sleep whenever. Peter was here now.


End file.
